The crowd cheered briefly before the man in the center raised his hand. Silence fell over the crowd. "Are you ready?" the man asked the two fighters. Nero nodded, Kiel smiled, "This will be a quick fight!" he said with a smile. The small man quickly lowered his hand. He stepped aside as a man at the edge of the stands struck a metal disc with a bat. A loud gong signaled the start of the fight immediately after an hourglass was turned over. The sand trickled down slowly, counting down five minutes. Once the hourglass had run out, one could give up; before that, the only way to end the fight was if one of the two warriors lost consciousness or was dead.
Nero stood upright, the spear hanging loosely at his side, as he watched his opponent with a calculating gaze. Kiel smiled. Slowly and surely, he began to walk to the side. Nero immediately followed in the opposite direction, and so the two circled each other.
Kiel knew Nero wouldn't attack him; after all, he had to stall for as much time as possible so he could give up. Still, Kiel believed he wouldn't need five minutes to defeat Nero anyway.
"Are you scared?" Kiel asked with a grin. Nero didn't answer, but simply continued circling him in silence, never taking his eyes off him. Kiel growled, "Why are you still acting so brave?"
"Just admit it already—you're wetting yourself out of fear of my power. There's no shame in admitting your own inferiority."
Neor still didn't answer, which infuriated Kiel. Usually, his victims tried to bargain with him, or begged him, surrendered to his mockery, and pleaded for his mercy, but this weakling seemed immune to his words.
And so was Nero. Why should he care about the ramblings of a madman? People who let themselves be intimidated and controlled by words were weak. Actions were the only thing that mattered. You can say as often as you like what you're going to do, but if you don't actually do it in the end, your words mean nothing. But this wasn't the only reason Nero didn't react. The other reason was that he knew it made Kiel angry, that it wounded his pride. And that was essential for Nero. He needed Kiel to demonstrate his superiority, but to do that, he had to wound his pride.
So he remained silent. Kiel stopped. "You know what," he began, in a last-ditch attempt to elicit a reaction, "if you fall to your knees right now and beg me for forgiveness and admit that I'm superior, then I'll hold back in this fight. After all, we don't want a fragile body like yours to get broken."
Nero stopped too. He clicked his tongue. "Will you finally stop wasting our time with your bullshit and let's get started?" he asked, glaring at Kiel with such intense loathing that it was as if he were looking at a disgusting worm. For a moment, Kiel was speechless. In all the years he'd been doing this, none of his fighters had dared to speak to him like that, or look at him that way. How was that possible? Wasn't he much stronger, much more imposing, much more powerful? How could this puny human not be afraid of him, God's chosen one? Once the initial shock had subsided, burning rage spread throughout his entire body, and his face flushed crimson. A deep, incredibly dangerous growl escaped his throat, like that of a lion. To Nero's astonishment, Kiel did not roar, but said in an icy voice, "I gave you a chance, ant, and now you've squandered it." He raised his sword high. "I'm going to enjoy this!"
With that, he charged at Nero, who stumbled back three long steps. In the very next second, Kiel was upon him, and with a sweeping blow, he struck at Nero's neck.
Nero dodged with incredible skill as adrenaline began to pump through his entire body. Everything around him began to blur, and the sounds of the crowd grew steadily fainter. The world seemed to spin more slowly, while his thoughts became faster, clearer, and more focused as his fighting instinct overrode everything else. The lingering pain in his stomach vanished, and thoughts of his former power faded away; nothing mattered except this fight. This was all Nero was focused on.
Blow after blow came from Kiel, the chosen one. They were fast, precise, and showed a great deal of combat experience, yet Nero was faster, better, and more experienced. No matter what Kiel did, Nero dodged with incredible ease, striking with his superior reach, the spearhead always aimed only at weak points in Kiel's armor. The crowd, which had expected a quick fight, had grown increasingly silent the longer the battle lasted, completely shocked by the elegance and skill with which the unassuming young man moved.
Koal's eyes widened in surprise as he watched the fight below. "You did say he was good," he muttered to Christina, "but that he's this good…" He shook his head. "If I'd known that, I would've invited him long ago…"
"Invite him to what?" Christina asked, confused, but Koal shook his head. "Unnecessary adult stuff—nothing you need to worry about right now."
Christina pouted. She hated it when her father withheld things from her just because she wasn't an adult yet. "Mom!" she said in frustration as she turned to her mother to complain, "Please tell my dad I'm not a little kid anymore."
Magrett looked at her daughter lovingly, "Christina, you know your father has a lot of responsibilities that just aren't for little girls who aren't even fully grown yet." Christina rolled her eyes, "Whatever, then just don't tell me!"
"You'll find out everything in due time," Koal promised her, in a half-hearted attempt to cheer her up. "Now focus on the fight."
"Do you think Nero is winning?" she asked, as she turned her full attention back to her tutor. Koal hesitated. "Yes," he said, but he didn't sound convinced. Because he could see that Nero was already starting to slow down.
The fight had been going on for about three minutes now. Even Kiel had fallen silent; beads of sweat were spreading across his forehead. He hadn't been able to inflict even the slightest scratch on Nero so far; it was as if he were trying to hold a slippery fish with his bare hands. In contrast, each of Nero's stabs was aimed at obvious weak spots; like a desert scorpion, he stung at his neck, his armpits, his eyes, or the gaps where his armor was fastened together.
Kiel was already bleeding from several wounds, though most of them were only superficial, barely piercing his hat. Still, they hurt. But on Nero's side, things weren't any better. On the surface, he was winning, but he could feel that he had already used up a large portion of his stamina. His weak human body wasn't built for a prolonged battle. It wouldn't be long before he made a mistake, and he didn't think he could afford to let that happen. So Nero took two long steps back. As he retreated, he stabbed his spear into his opponent's side, but in doing so, he left an opening for Kiel. Nero's spear tip bounced uselessly off his opponent's armor, who swung his greatsword at Nero. Nero deftly twisted out of the blow, but Kiel changed the direction of his sword mid-swing. Nero's eyes widened slightly as he was forced to block the blow with his spear. Kiel stood up in shock at this obvious mistake. "What did he do? Why didn't he just dodge again?" he said in shock as the tip of the spear snapped off from the violent blow. Nero jumped back, holding nothing in his hand but a long, useless stick. Kiel immediately leaped after him, laughing loudly as he struck at Nero. He chased Nero, who ran desperately across the arena.
The crowd booed angrily at the sight. Nero was clearly the better fighter, but Kiel was simply physically superior. This obvious imbalance sparked outrage among the crowd. Suddenly, Nero stumbled and slid to the ground, losing his staff—his last weapon—in the process. He rolled across the sand while Kiel roared triumphantly. Nero flung sand into Kiel's face with one hand, but Kiel had anticipated this and easily turned away. Nero used that brief moment to get back on his feet and put some distance between himself and Kiel. He looked at Kiel, panting, and Kiel returned his gaze. "Get on your knees," Kiel repeated as he slowly approached Nero, who was backing away from his opponent step by step. The crowd had fallen silent in shock as they watched the scene. "I told you, in the end, you too will be defeated by me. After all, I am Kiel, the chosen one of Kosmos himself. I am destined for greatness, whereas you are nothing more than a puny little man."
Kiel expected Nero to finally give in, but to his renewed shock, Nero laughed. "Yes," he said with a laugh, "the superior Kiel needs armor and a sword to defeat an unarmed man half his size." Nero laughed, "Truly, you are just as good as," Nero turned around, "anyone else in this world. What will you do next? Challenge a woman?"
Kiel glared at Nero with hatred as an idea struck him. He spat as he tossed his sword aside and then even took off his armor. "To defeat you, I need nothing more than my fists," he growled, cracking his knuckles. With a determined roar, he charged at Nero with full force, who didn't run away but stood his ground. Kiel swung his arm wide as he approached Nero, aiming a blow at his head; he expected Nero to keep running, but Nero remained standing still. Finally, Kiel arrived and struck brutally. The punch was so incredibly powerful that if it had hit Nero, it would likely have killed him, but Nero took a precise step toward Kiel, ducking under his blow.
With his last ounce of strength, he thrust forward, and the broken blade of his spear bored deep into Kiel's eyeball. Kiel roared in pain as he staggered backward. Nero seized this brief moment of shock and surprise, yanked the makeshift dagger from the eyeball—using the momentum of Kiel's stumble—skillfully stepped toward him again, and rammed the dagger into his remaining good eye.